


cosmic

by Vail



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, Friendship, Gen, Implied Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:27:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vail/pseuds/Vail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cold winds rise, swords cross, and dragons breathe trickles of fire in anticipation of the war to come - and still, humans make the time to fall and hurt in places outside the battlefield. A collection of drabbles too short to post independently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Even Death

**Author's Note:**

> These were posted on Tumblr several months ago, and I will be updating this sporadically. This collection will follow the TV show, and although there may be foreshadowing, there will be no spoilers for anyone who has not read the books as long as they are up to date on the show. 
> 
> I wrote the first 2 chapters after watching Season 1 before reading the books. I have now working on A Feast for Crows.

When Robb began packing to leave Winterfell, he found that one of his furs had been switched. A light-colored one that he had been gifted with some years ago – it no longer fit him properly, his shoulders too broad, but it had been a striking piece and very, very warm.

In its place was a soft, well worn dark grey, not as fine as anything he might have worn to a proper occasion but perfectly suitable for wearing while marching with the armies. He buried his fingers in it for a second and pretended it was still wrapped around a body he knew well, a body he missed and wondered after almost every aching day.

A body it had never quite fitted right on – a hand-me-down, Robb knew, a cast off for the bastard son kept around only because of the goodness of their father. The fur smelled of cold rain and strong lye soap, smelled of  _Jon_  –

Jon, somewhere even further North than he, clad in  _his_ cloak, covered in  _his_  scent.

Robb smiled, a faint twitch at the corner of his lips that had been missing since he heard of the news from King’s Landing, and tightened the cape around his neck before walking out the door. Nothing would truly separate them – not distance, not time, not even death.


	2. Of Smoke and Ash

She took the blade, sharpened enough to slice through a thread placed on its edge, and held it carefully to the ends of her Khaleesi’s locks, still charred from the flames of the Khal’s burning.

“How long would you like it Khaleesi?” she asked, peering over the shoulder of the other woman. One of the – the  _dragons_  was curled up in her lap, snorting streams of fire. Daenerys barely noticed, stroking its warm body with an idle hand.

“Cut it however you like,” she responded softly, focused on golden glow of fire in the small hut. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“I will try, Khaleesi,” Doreah replied, finally lifting a thick, heavy section of hair to razor off the burned ends. Her Khaleesi’s skin had finally been washed of grime, but she still smelled of smoke and ash, nothing like the dried herbs she’d once rubbed into her skin before Khal Drogo returned to see her; or the scent she’d worn during the nights that Doreah had taught her what she needed to know.

It was the Khaleesi’s turn to lead now, and Doreah would follow her, even through the flaming jaws of dragons. Daenerys would never let her burn.


End file.
